If I threw a rock down the gullet of this deep, lonely blog, would it hit at the bottom? Would it splash into some river run-off of old melancholy or all has that all dried up? Lodge itself into the thick damp remnants of fear. Or would that flung rock just hit the dry, cracked … More Echo echo echo echo….
Two years ago today, a bunch of us stood in a window-lined waiting room far above November-dirty, Seattle streets. Rain smashed the glass. It was cold and she was dying. That was all most of us knew. We had woken up that morning regular people. That evening, we practiced in our minds how to stand up … More What Two Years Does
Months of a deep fog, of getting hit hard with death so that it makes life seem so strange and wrong. No, death isn’t new. Not when you’re 40. But then it happens that the loss is so supremely different than any before. When it becomes the loss of not just what you had, but … More Grief Gives Way to a Pencil
“What is left out will always show and make the strength of what is left in.” Can you apply this to your relationships, your life, your sense of self? ~photo from my copy of “A Moveable Feast”